A blue screen appeared in Jack’s face; it was the skill recommended by Ar’Tazul, the one that wasn’t even in the catalog.

Parkour Skill – 3,000 credits

Parkour: A mix of finesse and bodily strength can allow you to navigate obstacles efficiently, have better control of your body, and move unpredictably.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“It’s a skill formed from information we found on this planet,” Ar’Tazul replied. “It’s not properly tested yet, so there might be some deficiencies, but it should last you through the F-Grade. The lack of testing makes it cheap; I can let you have it for three thousand.”

“But it’s parkour.”

“I am not aware of the name’s cultural implications. I just know it’s a movement skill and your best bet right now. You might be able to gather a couple thousand credits before the Tournament if you work hard, but you won’t be able to get a good movement skill.”

“I guess…” Jack considered it. Parkour’s description sounded simple but suitable, and Ar’Tazul recommended it. After all the free information he’d just given, Jack was inclined to trust him on this, though his general motives remained doubtful. After all, he wouldn’t get anything if he lied to Jack here.

“Okay. Then, let’s leave Earth’s powerful factions for later. I’ll gather some cash till then. I will only buy the advanced information package and the Parkour skill. This brings us to six thousand, right?”

“Seven, including the confidentiality term for the coin.” Ar’Tazul grinned. “And that’s where the discount comes in.”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh. “You sneaky bastard. Fine. Deal.”

Ar’Tazul smiled widely and shook his hand. “Always a pleasure, Jack. Come back for more!”

After watching his credits drain away to 0, Jack got two information crystals. One of them was filled with a ton of information he didn’t want to go through right now. The other held nothing—but the moment he asked about it, the crystal broke into pieces.

“Wha—”

Something entered his head, grabbed his synapses and moved them around, then carved information into his muscle memory. It was the most invasive, violating thing he'd ever felt. And then it was over.

From one moment to the next, Jack knew how to parkour.

Congratulations! New Skill unlocked:

Parkour I: A mix of finesse and bodily strength can allow you to navigate obstacles efficiently, have better control of your body, and move unpredictably.

He shook his head. No matter how many times he experienced it, this feeling remained disorienting.

“Have fun, Jack!” Ar’Tazul waved him off cheerfully.

Jack looked at his hands, then a nearby rooftop. He turned to Edgar. “I’ll be back soon. Take care of the others.”

“Will do.”

Jack nodded and burst into a sprint. The crowd parted amidst shouts, but he ignored them. When he approached them, and therefore the street, he pushed hard against the ground and shot up with more force than any pre-System human had ever achieved.

He grabbed the ledge of a rooftop and let himself roll on it, then burst into a sprint without breaking pace. He jumped over gaps. He stepped against vertical walls and flew around columns. The wind buffeted his face, and the finesse required only accentuated the joy of speed.

Pre-System, he’d seen some Red Cow events where people parkoured on the rooftops of Greek islands, but it was nothing like this. Those athletes were much better than Jack, but they were limited by their pre-System bodies. How much strength could they have had? Ten? Twenty? Jack had close to a hundred.

Under his sure feet and smart hands, the town became a playground. He jumped, rolled, twisted, and jumped again. He even performed tricks. All the while, he grinned; this was great fun.

The people below stared at him pass overhead. Their mouths hung open. His speed was such that they weren’t even sure what they were seeing.

“Is that a bird?” asked a man.

“Is it a plane?” asked a woman.

“No!” replied another man. “It’s—”

His response was lost to the wind as Jack sped past. He laughed out loud. Children looked at him starstruck, and he even saw teenagers mutter breathless wows.

As he got used to the movement, he sped up. The skill became more and more integrated into him until they became a seamless existence. Jack felt in control.

In truth, the first tier of Parkour wasn’t enough to control his current strength. He misstepped at times and landed awkwardly at others. He could barely react as he practically flew over the rooftops, but even that was orders of magnitude better than simply running like normal.

Moreover, as time passed, Jack realized with glee that parkour was helping him deal with another problem: his increased control over his body.

The last upgrade of his Fistfighting skill had expanded his conscious control of his body. He could now perceive and control an extra layer of mental processes, allowing him to finetune his bodily responses to any given situation. On one hand, it was great.

On the other, there was a reason humans didn’t have conscious control over their entire bodies. It brought a sharp spike in difficulty, even when it came to simple things like throwing a punch. He’d lost a degree of automation. The only reason he could fight now was that he’d spent an entire day practicing in the forest, and even then, his performance was lacking; that was why he’d struggled a bit against Henry White, who should have been an easy opponent.

This difficulty was a big part of why he felt his stats were underutilized; because they were.

Parkour required fine control over the user’s body. Therefore, on acquiring the skill, Jack had gained a tool to help him master this new body of his. He was slowly getting used to it. With practice, he could regain his previous level of control, and then…

He grinned. Then, he would become a beast.

Rooftops flew under him as he approached the western part of Valville. Seeing the town like this was a unique experience. He noticed things he never had before, though he’d walked these streets a hundred times. Broken crates in dark alleys; a tavern’s backdoor; a dead end he’d never followed; a house yard connecting two streets, that anyone could cross; a closed yard between two apartment buildings.

All those tidbits of neighborhood knowledge would have come in handy as a kid. Not now, of course, but it was nice to fill up his gaps, even late.

The cramped houses gave way to spacious yards. Parkouring became more difficult, and Jack almost jumped on an overhead electricity wire before remembering he wasn’t stupid.

Eventually, the professor’s house came into view. Jack leaped from his current rooftop, landed on the side of a telephone pole, pushed hard against it to shoot away again, then landed with a perfect roll on her lawn. Belatedly, he realized that his roll put him close to the corpse of Hugo, that slavic hitman who didn’t know his own good. At least he didn’t land on the corpse.

People had searched it, of course. Any credit there was gone.

Even more belatedly, Jack realized that he was covered in blood and grime. That may have been why the crowd in the square had kept their distance, but he’d grown so used to being like this that he hadn’t noticed.

I can’t enter the house like I was just born.

He walked to the green hose by the corner and washed himself clean, or at least half-way decent. Realizing how bad he probably stank, though he couldn’t smell himself, Jack decided to only have a quick chat with the professor before visiting his own house and giving himself the hard scrubbing shower he desperately needed.

Letting himself dry a bit, he walked inside, got to the basement, and rang the doorbell by the heavy metal door. Nothing happened; Jack realized the power was out. He hadn’t seen a single electrical device operating since he entered Valville, except for the hotel, where Henry’s alarms had gone off when searching his room.

Really. Was I blind on the way in?

Unfortunately, the bunker’s backup power generator wasn’t connected to the doorbell—an oversight his father always brought up but never got fixed.

Out of options, he simply used his fist to knock on the bunker door.

“Who is it?” a voice came from the other side, muffled by many inches of metal.

“It’s Jack!” he shouted back. “You can come out now! I beat Henry’s Fang!”

“What’s Eric’s favorite book?” asked the voice.

Jack chuckled. The professor was as sharp as ever. “Highly Probable: An Introduction to Statistics!” he shouted back. “By himself!”

Creaking noises came from behind the door. Hydraulic levers groaned as the metal slowly opened to reveal a dark, candle-lit room and a monkey that was already flying towards Jack.

“Oof!” he exclaimed, catching Brock in the chest. “Easy, boy. I’m here.”

“Thank God you’re back,” Professor Margaret Rust said as she walked out of the vault. “Your little friend wouldn’t stop running around and doing push-ups. He almost drove me crazy.”

“Yeah, Brock is full of energy. You should have seen him trying to attack me when we first met.” Jack smiled, scratching the little brorilla's head. Brock enjoyed it for a moment, then shook his head to dislodge Jack’s hand.

“What happened, Jack?” the professor asked quickly.

“Nothing much. I just annihilated Henry White and his two Classed allies, then had some dealings with that merchant.”

“The alien one?”

“Yes. He didn’t sell you out, by the way, did he?”

The professor shook her head. “He didn’t help me, either, but it was my fault for getting greedy and neglecting the confidentiality term.”

Jack nodded. “He helped me out with some financial stuff. He isn’t necessarily a nice guy, but he’s smart enough to get on my good side for now. Unless he betrays us, of course, but you know how those things work.”

“Of course. Did you really beat them all yourself?” Her gaze was filled with doubt. “I thought you’d die.”

Jack flinched, then looked up at her. Now that he took a closer look, there were wet grooves on her wrinkled cheeks. Putting Brock on his shoulder, he drew her into a hug.

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “Just a bit— Oh, crap!”

He quickly let go and stepped back, remembering that he was still filthy. She laughed.

“It’s alright, Jack.”

He scratched his head. “I beat Henry’s Fang, anyway. Not quite alone; there was an Edgar fellow helping me out. Good guy. A wizard. Then, I declared this town the territory of my guild, recruited some trustworthy-looking people, and came here to let you out.”

“I see,” she replied with an amused smile. “Does that make you our new mayor?”

“No. That’s you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, you are the mayor. I have no desire to manage a town or a faction. How about I make you the vice-leader? You’ll have authority over everything, and you’ll be able to use that bright head of yours to help the people of Valville. I think you’re the best person for the job.”

“You want to make me the general manager?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she stayed still for a moment. Jack knew this stance. This was her reaction when receiving a lot of information at once. Right now, her mind was pulling everything apart at incredible speeds, analyzing and understanding the situation.

It took her only a few seconds to consider her options.

“Fine,” she finally replied. “I can do that. You go fight monsters without a care in the world; I’ll handle everything else.”

“That’s gre—”

“But,” she cut him off, “under one condition.”

“What?”

“You must do what I say. I have decades of experience leading complex research teams, so if I’m running an entire town, I don’t want a novice doctor of biology in my feet.”

“Almost doctor,” Jack muttered, “but yeah, that’s fine. I trust you.”

“Good. Then, we have a deal.”

Jack smiled. “System, invite the professor to my faction, and give her the rank of faction vice-leader.”

She accepted the invite, but the role he tried to give her apparently didn’t exist. “Well, what ranks are there?” he asked in irritation.

Available ranks:

Leader: Jack Rust

Supervisor: -

“Just leader and supervisor? Nothing else?” He frowned. “Seems terribly inconvenient.”

“Not really,” the professor disagreed. “The System generally takes a hands-off approach. Most things are arranged by people. For example, you can just name someone your vice-leader; you don’t need System approval. The supervisor role is probably there to let people access some faction-related System screens.”

“I see. Then, System, appoint Margaret Rust as faction supervisor.”

The moment he said it, it was done. She grinned. “Very well. I will explore the available screens and handle everything. Can you also tell me what exactly happened with Henry’s Fang?”

Suddenly, Jack realized he was tired. Too many things had happened in too short a timespan.

“Yes… Just, give me a moment, please.”

He walked back to the living room and took a seat on the floor; no sense in ruining the furniture with Henry’s blood. With that amused smile still on her face, the professor followed.

After a moment of rest, Jack spent the next few minutes filling her in with the specifics of his town adventure so far. In the end, Professor Margaret had all the information she needed to get to work.

“I think I get the idea,” she said. “You can leave everything to me.”

“Great! Have this, too,” he said, handing her the crystal containing the advanced information package. “You can read it first. I’ll take it after you’re done; you’ll be faster than me, anyway.”

“Okay.”

“Plus, I need to take a shower. I’ll get going now. I think that’s all.”

“Yes. And Jack…” the professor hesitated for a moment. “I know you’re strong, but you really should be more careful. Valville is only a tiny dot on the map. There are many strong people on Earth, like that Gan Salin that Henry White mentioned. I haven’t heard of him before, but he should be fearsome.”

“Don’t worry. I know my limits. I’ll be careful,” Jack reassured her. “And if that Gan Salin holds a grudge against me when we meet, either now or in the Integration Tournament…I will gladly kick his ass.”

She cracked a smile. “You’ve changed.”

“We all have. Let’s go, Brock. See you around, Professor.”

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